


Rest

by Tzalmavet



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:53:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9375323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tzalmavet/pseuds/Tzalmavet
Summary: One resident of Damien stays up late and sees something that bothers him.





	

**_How long is he gonna stand there?_ **

The question was so strong and so urgent, he almost said it out loud.  But he didn't.  He couldn't.  He wouldn't dare.

But it was just so  _weird_.

He tore his gaze away from the window and slid down to the floor.  He anxiously rubbed his arms, trying to calm himself.  There had to be a good reason.  It probably didn't mean anything.   _Probably._  He sure hoped so.   _I should be in bed right now_ , he thought.  It was late, the pink sky overhead deepened to a menacing black.   _I am awful tired. Maybe I'm just seeing things._  He placed a shaky hand on the windowsill.   _That has to be it._   Trying not to shiver, he slowly lifted himself to peer outside again.

Still there.

Outside, on the path that ran parallel to the house, stood a stark white figure, perfectly still, hand clutching a menacing metal rod, back turned to the terrified man who couldn't understand why in the world the Batter was in front of his home.

A glance at the clock across the room.  It'd been almost three hours since he'd started count, and the Batter still hadn't moved an inch.

 _Have I done something wrong? Have my neighbors done something wrong?_   He asked himself over and over, nose pressed against the cool transparent plastic separating himself from the outdoors.  The exhaustion from staying up to such an unpleasant hour and the suspense of the situation were driving him mad.  
He didn't know how much longer he could take it.  He cursed himself for looking out the window in the first place instead of going straight to bed, but couldn't bring himself to go to sleep _now._   Not without an explanation.  He needed closure or else he feared he'd never sleep well again.

It was well past curfew, and he wasn't sure how good an idea it would be to go outside to investigate.  After all, where the Batter went, there were usually spectres, and spectres meant danger, and danger meant the possibility of death.  Why would the Batter stay in one place so long if not to search for them?

 _Maybe if I ask him, he'll tell me why he's standing there_ , he thought.  The Batter hadn't seemed to be a mean fellow, from what he'd gathered.  The Batter fought the ghosts that plagued the mines, which was definitely a good thing, and wasn't as irritable as Dedan, so he probably wasn't bad.  He was just... unsettling.  Yes, that sounded correct.

The man moved away from the window and paused as he gripped the doorknob.   _If there_ _are_ _any spectres out there, then surely the Batter will take care of them if they try to attack me_ , he reassured himself.  He stepped outside.

Nighttime was colder than he'd thought.  He tiptoed closer to where the Batter was, hoping no one had seen or heard him leave his house.  He tried to rehearse what he was going to say in his head:  _'hello, mister Batter, may I ask what you're doing in front of my house at this hour?' 'Excuse me, Batter, but why have you been standing in this place for so long?' 'Not to be rude, mister Batter, but if you're going to just stand around all night, could you_ please _do it somewhere else?'_ Nothing seemed to sound right.  He wished he was a better planner.

He steeled himself as he stepped in front of the Batter.  He'd never been this close to him before, only having seen the self-proclaimed purificator from a distance.  The Batter was much taller than himself and, while definitely shorter than Dedan, quite intimidating and almost inhuman at that proximity.   _Oh dear, here goes_ , he thought as he fearfully lifted his head to look the Batter in the face to speak to him.

When he looked up, he said nothing, then looked harder at what he saw.  It was very dark, but, in what little light there was, he was almost sure he saw that the Batter's eyes were closed-- as opposed to their usual practically-unblinking stare.   _But why?_  Cautiously, he lifted a hand and waved it, seeing if the Batter would notice and react somehow.  There was no response.

He withdrew his hand and leaned forwards. "Hello?" he whispered.  No response.   _Please don't be ignoring me._  Only just, he could see and hear the Batter's breathing; chest rising and falling much slower than he would've thought, and, even in the quietness of night, nearly inaudible.  It was kind of familiar.  In fact, it really reminded him of...

That was when the realization struck.

_He's asleep._

_He's asleep and he's standing upright._

_Oh._  That's why the Batter had been holding so still.  He was unconscious.  Even the cattle lied down when they went to sleep.  For a living thing, especially a person, to remain standing despite being asleep was so _bizarre_.

He looked away from the Batter and exhaled a breath he'd been holding in.   _Well._  It was a weird explanation, but he finally had it.  It was a weight lifted from his mind.

 He supposed he should scurry on back inside and go to bed, but something was still bothering him a bit.  He looked at the Batter again.   _So he just stands in place every night? He doesn't even go indoors?_  It sounded like a very unpleasant way to sleep.  He rubbed his hands together-- there was no wind at the moment, but it was still quite cold.  Was the Batter affected by temperature?  Did he feel how cold it was?  Did it bother him?

 _Here's the guy who's going into the mines to clean out the spectres without asking for anything in return, and he sleeps outside and lets himself freeze, too?_  Something didn't feel right about any of that.   _But what can I do about it?_  Great.  Now he was troubled again.  He'd stayed up three hours later than usual, broken curfew, and _still_ didn't feel like he was going to get any sleep that night.  He just wanted to go to bed.

 _Bed..._   He got an idea, and he _really_ hoped it wasn't a stupid one.  He was pretty sure he didn't have to tell the Batter to stay put when he turned around and went back inside.  He opened the chest that sat in the corner of his room and pulled out his spare blanket.  It was there in case his usual blanket got ruined or he got too cold at night, but the building was pretty well-insulated and he kept his sheets neat and clean, so he'd never used it.  He tucked the blanket under his arm and closed the chest quietly before hurrying back outside.

Cautiously approaching the Batter again, he took a deep breath and tossed the blanket over the taller man's shoulders.  Much to his relief, the Batter didn't stir when it settled.  He stood up on his tiptoes and adjusted the blanket to make sure it wouldn't slide off between then and morning.  Satisfied with the job (and still quite scared of accidentally waking the Batter up), he stepped back.  The Batter looked to be wrapped up pretty nicely.   _You won't be as cold now_ , he thought.

"Uhh, th-there you go..." he whispered, "I hope you get a good rest!"  With nothing more to say or do, he ran back into his house and locked the door as fast as he could, before practically throwing himself into bed.  He couldn't wait to pass out and shrug all of what'd happened that night off as some stressful dream.

* * *

As the eastern horizon just barely began to brighten, the Batter awoke and opened his eyes.  He flexed his fingers and shifted his weight between his feet to work the lingering vestiges of sleep from his body; he knew he had to be in top form to properly fill out his sacred mission.  As much of a hurry as he was in to get back on track, he couldn't risk having delayed reactions in phantom-choked areas such as the mines.

For some reason, that morning, the chill from last night seemed to leave his extremities far quicker than usual.  As he pondered, he noticed an unfamiliar weight pressing on his shoulders.  With his free hand, he removed the object in question to find himself holding a blanket.

He didn't recall wrapping himself up in a blanket before losing consciousness, which meant that someone else had to have put it there.

"Strange," he thought aloud, rubbing the warm cloth between his fingers.

He decided it was no matter how it'd got there or who'd done it.  It'd done him no harm (arguably, it might even have been beneficial), and he had important business to attend to.

He stowed the blanket into his inventory, left the street, and headed back down the stairs and into the mines.


End file.
